


Keeping It At Bay

by MUFUMUFUSENPAI



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Insecure Lance, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Made up space science, My First Work in This Fandom, Not so serious interpretation of season 3, Slow Burn, like really slow burn, lolololol, slight AU, will add more tags as the story goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 23:19:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10056452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MUFUMUFUSENPAI/pseuds/MUFUMUFUSENPAI
Summary: Lance remembers being in love with the ocean. It was deep, uncontrollable, and mysterious, threatening to drown him if he let it; it was freeing as well as dangerous. Life was a lot like the ocean, Lance figured. Even more so now that Shiro is missing, and the heir of Zarkon rising to power; the rolling waves of the rising tension between the team and Lance, on the edge of a storm that could very well capsize Lance's entire life on end.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Man, summaries are hard, haha. Man, I am not that used to AO3's tagging system-- it's like, so superior compared to FFN's, haha. Also, this is my first fanfiction on this account, AND my first work in the Voltron fandom. I was feeling a bit down about a few of my other stories, so I thought I'd make myself feel a bit better by just letting it all out with fanficiton rambles of my favorite character. 
> 
> Also, I'm an edit as I go type of person-- so if you see an error, don't hesitate to tell me, please! :D 
> 
> And if anyone seems OOC, or anything-- I'll try to work on it, haha. I'm actually quite nervous considering this IS my first work outside of what I'm used to. ^^''
> 
> That being said, enjoy!
> 
> R&R, please!

Lance remembers being in love with the sea. 

The rolling waves pushing seafoam against the sandy beaches, the sea salt spray hitting against warm skin. He remembers looking out at the huge ocean, trying to find some indiscernible distance in between the sea and the sky. Two blues crashing and melding into one, as infinite and natural as life. He liked to think that life was like the ocean, like the receding tides and unchangeable currents.

You couldn’t control the ocean, no matter how hard you tried.

It was a dangerous thing, the ocean. A dangerous, _alive_ , and beautiful thing. Lance remembers almost drowning, when the waves pulled him back and he flailed, long gangly limbs thrashing for some type of support against the suffocating weight of the sea. All Lance could think of, at the time, was how deep and how easy it would be to just be lost at sea forever, under the water, _alone_. Luckily, his brother was a training lifeguard and managed to save him, right before the water could fill up his lungs.

His mother and father were understandably upset, and grounded him from visiting the beach for a few days. It surprised Lance that he missed it, despite his near death experience.

There was just something so alluring about how warm and squishy the sand was, in between his toes, as he walked along the edge where the water managed to lap at his feet and calves. The frightening and beautiful blue of the ocean more enamouring than anything Lance could describe, could even feel; he had this type of _pull_ towards the ocean. There was something _freeing_ about the ocean, and it thrilled Lance, scared him, but thrilled him nonetheless. The moment he learned how to swim, the moment he was able to save himself from drowning and the limits he could push himself into-- he was in love.

It was almost addicting, the feeling of swimming and almost becoming about the sea itself.

And then came the stars.

Space, the stars and it’s constellations, were beautiful when reflected off of the ocean. Lance didn’t know what had made him come out towards the ocean, in the middle of the night, to _stargaze_. It probably had something to do with curiosity. Or maybe somebody rejected him, again. Either way, Lance remembers feeling very small and very awed as he stared up at the indefinite space that seemed to be reflected in the ocean. He had wondered if he had stepped out into the inky blackness, the dark reflection of starlight, that he would fall up into the stars.

Lance didn’t think his longing, his obsession, for the stars, and, in some ways, the ocean, was that obvious. Sure, he mentioned it once or twice, but never for long. At least, he _hoped_ . He was, like almost all other members of his family, known to babble and wax poetics and laments about their thoughts, their dreams, their day. And loudly, at that. Lance just didn’t think that they would put much attention to what _he_ said because he was, well, _Lance_.

Lance, the middle child in a family of 7. Not really a prodigy in anything, nor was he really smart-- but he was hardworking, genuine, and funny, so that had to count for something. Nothing was really expected of him, other than to be good and have decent grades. Nor was he as troublesome as his two younger siblings, pranksters by heart and causing general chaos in the house when they came back from school. He was just sort of there, a babysitter and a big brother if need arises, a good son to help his mother with dishes and help his dad fix up cars despite not liking the oil and grime that came with it.

He was just a boy helplessly in love the ocean, and the stars.

And then, he was suddenly going to Garrison.

“Oh, _mijo_ ,” his mother gushed, sweetly. Lance was bombarded with the application during one dinner, on summer vacation. The rest of his siblings had left to do their thing, either to go outside and play with the fireflies or upstairs to watch T.V. Maybe gossip on the phone, who knows? Lance would have snuck away to the roof, or maybe the ocean, to gaze up at the stars and trace the constellations with his finger. That was, until his mother and father had indicated that they wanted him to stay after dinner.

And here he was. Garrison application already filled out, and was just awaiting his signature.

“What is this?” Lance’s mouth felt dry, as he skimmed through the thick packet that was the application. “Garrison-- but how? I didn’t think that they’d accept me, not when I failed the end of the year test,” he stumbled to say, blinking up at his parents.

Lance had gotten _decent_ grades, at best. He was easily distracted, and that made it hard to concentrate on long boring lectures. Needless to say, _tests_ and any type of exams were not his forte.

His father made a dismissive noise, “Ah, well,” he grinned, roguish and cool in a way that Lance wanted to imitate, _pronto_. “We pulled a few strings, here and there.”

“And as long as we pay the tuition, and you get good grades, they’re willing to let you go study and live there,” his mother finished, smiling so brightly that it almost hurt to look at. Lance felt overwhelmed with emotion, making him blink rapidly lest he start crying and make things feel a bit awkward.

“But how are we going to pay tuition?” Lance asked, worriedly. There was a lump forming in his throat, and he could barely talk past it. And _tuition_. They barely had money to pay rent and the bills, and that’s with his parents and older siblings working together! Lance had fully expected to be told to get a job at the end of the summer, so he could help pay his dues.

If they had mentioned it, he would have started to try and apply for scholarships sooner.

“Will you just be happy, and stop worrying?” His father grumbled, reaching out to cuff the back of Lance’s head. Amusement lined his features, though, and his lips quirked into a smile. “Do you really think your mother and I didn’t save up money for you kids to go to college?”

 _Uh, no. Didn’t think that_.

Lance blinked, “But if you have been saving up, then why hasn’t Lorenzo and Gabby gone--”

“Because they’re big babies,” his father answered, impatiently. “Now, are you going to hug your mother and me, or keep asking questions? Your mother’s been excited and practically driving me crazy with how much she wanted to surprise you.” Lance broke out into a grin, and was welcomed into the smothering hug his parents both gave him.

“Thank you,” Lance had told them, sincere and near tears. “I’ll make you proud, I promise,” he vowed, determined and overwhelmed, almost so much that he couldn’t think straight. Every emotion and word and thought were scrambling in his brain, and he _knew_ he had to go visit the ocean again tonight just so he could calm down, and even his heart beat with the lull of the waves.

His mother had tears in her eyes, and his father was looking awkwardly to one side. His mother spoke, voice swelled with emotion, and yeah, Lance could see where he had gotten his overly emotional side from now. “Oh, we’re already proud of you, Lance,” his mother sniffed, smile bright and radiant like the sun. “We’ll always be proud of you, no matter what.”

_And it was at this moment that Lance realized that, yeah, he was in love with his family as well._

-0-0-0-

A lot of people think that the definition of being ‘in love’ was meant only for certain occasions, special people. That they shouldn’t use the term ‘love’ and ‘in love’ too much, or it would lose it’s meaning. Lance disagreed simply because his heart just _felt too much_ that it would cheapen anything he said if he wasn’t speaking it passionately as he felt.

Whether it’d be a irritation and annoyance, or a crush and the _thump-thump_ of his heart-- Lance was loud, passionate, and unapologetic for it.

Lance was an ocean unto himself, and just like the real thing, he almost forgets that he could drown in it.

-0-0-0-

It was depressing, that’s for sure.

After the battle with Zarkon. Wait, scratch that, the _defeat_ of Zarkon-- Shiro had gone missing, and everyone was coping with that in their own way. With Shiro gone, the victory felt a bit hollow. No one had any idea where he could have gone, or went, and with each day that passed with him still missing, the depressing atmosphere deepened a bit more and Lance felt like he could suffocate on the tension hanging tangibly in the air.

Hunk was spending his time torn between helping Pidge fidget and build their smart tech stuff that was, supposedly, to help them find Shiro, to find Pidge’s family, and cooking in the kitchen. Lance had tried to join, tried to help and bounce ideas off-- but he couldn’t keep up with the scientific jargon as  easily and fast as they could, Pidge usually growing irritated and telling him to _buzz off_. Hunk would just send him an apologetic and distant smile, and Lance would just laugh, uncomfortable and out of his league, and leave to go mope around a bit.

Allura was trying her best to keep everyone optimistic, but she, too, was running herself ragged in the search for Shiro. Wormholes were often ripped open, and closed, daily, leaving Lance almost nauseous at the whiplash it caused, not to mention how Allura _must_ have felt from doing it so often. Coran was at his wits end, taking care of the damage done to the castle and making sure Allura didn’t pass out from exhaustion, and starving herself. Coran and Lance shared many small moments together, both of them knocking heads together to form a plan to at least make sure the paladins of Voltron and the princess of Altea didn’t kill themselves in their desperation.

Keith spent ungodly hours training against the training bots in the arena, quickly leveling up and smashing his way to victory. He was vicious and angry, depressed, and was doing the only thing that he knew how to do to get his aggression out, his misery. He barely spoke a word to Lance anymore, distancing himself from everyone except for the Blade of Marmora people and Allura, all of them talking amongst each other, trying to figure out what to do _now_ that Zarkon is dead and Shiro is missing.

Lance was just sorta... there.

That was a more depressing thought than he’d like to admit.

It wasn’t like he had any bright ideas on how to find Shiro. If Allura, Pidge, Hunk, hell, even the Blade of Marmora people didn’t have a clue-- what’s the chances of _Lance_ having the faintest idea on how to find his lost leader? Unlikely. Lance wasn’t that good at many things, but at the very least, he could be a good teammate. So that’s what he did, drifting in between the various occupants of the castle, making sure they rested, they ate, ect. He tried to talk to them, lighten the mood, but they were usually brushed off or treated coldly, which was-- well, understandable, because everyone was all sad and depressed and stuff, but Lance was _trying_ , okay?

That’s the best anyone could ask for, at least.

Lance tried to think of what Shiro would have wanted for the, ignoring the crushing weight of worry and anxiety that came with the thought of Shiro being gone, lost, _forever--_ Egh. Lance pushed on with his line of thought, his mind scrambling a bit before he got back on track, shaky and unstable like the waves of the ocean during a storm. Shiro wouldn’t have wanted them not to ruin themselves, especially for him-- god, Shiro was such a good leader, a good _person_ , a good compassionate person that Lance sometimes felt stricken with awe and adoration, slightly envious, that he was able to meet someone like Shiro in person. Not just meet in person, was on a _team_ with. Shiro had called Lance their sharpshooter, and _fuck_ , if that didn’t make Lance’s day, his life, everything. It was ridiculous on how much that meant to Lance, but emotions were generally ridiculous and Lance relished the feeling of being needed, of wanted, of being in Shiro’s compassionate leader presence because he was _apart_ of Voltron, the defenders of the universe!

And now Shiro’s gone.

A cold emptiness filled Lance’s chest, a feeling of helplessness that left Lance feeling lost and aimless. Shiro was gone, and Lance couldn’t do anything to help with the search. But he could at least take care of his team, because that’s what Shiro would have wanted. It was a bit hard at times, and Lance had his fair share of underrated moments with them, such as when Pidge yelled at him to _stop being so annoying and just let me_ **_work_ ** ! Or when Allura told him to stop messing around, and just get out of her presence because she was _very busy, now please, Lance_ . Keith and Hunk would brush him off, absently in Hunk’s case, and coldly in Keith’s. Coran was too busy with his own thing to really help Lance figure out his team, and Lance felt a bit cheap for actually _wanting_ help to figure out his team. He was apart of this team too, the paladin of the Blue Lion, and that meant he was supposed to be compassionate, friendly, and helpful towards his own teammates, towards everyone.

But that still didn’t help the feeling that Lance could, _should_ , be doing more to help find Shiro.

It was just that he didn’t know where to start, what to do.

So he spent his time, in between trying to figure out his teammates and practically pulling teeth each time he tried to get them to eat, or rest, in the bridge where he could trace the constellations close to earth. It was the closest place he’ll ever be to his home for a _long_ time, and Lance felt the familiar ache raising up from beneath his ribcage, gripping his heart tight with the homesickness that accompanied him looking at the constellations. It must be a form of masochism, he thought, to find himself back here, reminiscing and longing for home. And then he felt bad for feeling this way, because all the other paladins, Allura and Coran-- they weren’t downed by a bout of homesickness, they were determined and so smart, so resourceful, in being the paladins of Voltron, being the defenders of the universe. Lance wanted so badly to feel what they felt, to feel the very same feeling Shiro had given him when he acknowledged that Lance was _useful_ to the team, wanted to soak in that feeling, _lose_ himself in it like he manages to lose himself in every other emotion he felt.

And then maybe he could actually be useful to the team in some way.

Seeing as of that star gazing wasn’t helping his scrambled thought process, helping to decipher his tight ball of clustered emotions in his chest that threatened like rolling waves to pull him under, he went to the only other place where he felt a bit more calmer, another place that reminded him so much of his home on earth.

Blue.

He entered the hangar, where all the lions were currently being kept because of reasons uknown to Lance. It didn’t matter, Lance liked the feeling of an open and crowded room, despite the crowd being literal cat robots that were designed to defend the universe. Blue purred, as he got closer, leaning down and opening her mouth to let Lance walk inside of her. As he did, he ran hands over her smooth metal surfaces, the bond between him and Blue deepening and coming to the forefront of his mind now that he was focusing specifically on it.

 _Hey beautiful_ , Lance thought.

Blue purred a greeting back to him, and Lance was once struck again with the knowledge that lions _don’t_ purr. He only knew this because his older sister was practically in love with any type of animals, and used to read him animal fact books as bedtime stories. He huffed in amusement, ignoring the painful twinge that usually came when he thought of his family.

 _Would they be proud of me, Blue?_ Lance asked, sitting down in the cockpit and curling his lanky knees up to his chest, so he could hug his arms around them. Here, he felt a bit more relaxed, a bit more sure in his position, like a buoy in an endless sea of confusion and scrambled thoughts, aimless currents that felt like it could drown Lance at any second.

Blue’s response was something achingly similar to, _no matter what you do, they’d always be proud. I’m proud. So proud to have you as my paladin_ . It was a comforting purr, and Lance melted into the feeling of acceptance, the feeling of being welcomed. Unlike what he thought would be the norm, it wasn’t like the heat of the fireplace during winter, but like the ocean waves swallowing him whole, freeing and overwhelming all at once, where Lance didn’t exist, and _was_ the ocean, strong, free, alluring.

Piloting Blue was almost the same as swimming in the ocean, both of them together as one, both of them drowning, suffocating on sea foam and salt water, exhilarating and terrifying all at once. Both of them shared a love for the water, the sensations it brought, the feeling of freedom and uncontrollable power that not even Blue could conquer. Maybe, Lance thought, that both of them were just a sucker for feeling helpless, and masochistic for being in love with something that could just as easily kill them as well as free them.

 _Maybe_ , Blue conceded. It was weird how they communicated, not using exact words, but _meaning_ . Lance was slightly jealous of that, considering he could only put _so much_ meaning into his words before they failed, stuttering out of his mouth, collapsing in his throat, scrambling his thought process until there was nothing but _meaning, feeling, drowning in emotion_ . It was frustrating at times when Lance couldn’t get his point across, couldn’t get his _meaning_ across, or when people totally misunderstood him.

 _You wouldn’t happen to know where Shiro would be, do ya’?_ Lance ventured to ask, dry and humorless.

There was no response, and Lance couldn’t help but sigh in silent despair.

Just like him, both Blue and Lance were lost out at sea of questions, and no answers. At the very least they have each other, Lance thought numbly and sleepily, worn out like all of his emotions were poured out of him all of a sudden. He curled in on himself, tugging his jacket tighter against him, and tried to focus on his breathing. Blue was a constant in the background, a purr of understanding and strong belief that Lance was something to proud of. There was something hesitant there, underneath it all, and Lance gently, curiously, prodded at it.

 _Have you thought to ask the Black Lion?_ Blue reluctantly offered, the thought almost lost in the waves of uncertainty and deepened expanse of being that was a Lion of Voltron. Blue was, despite having a weakness and power in the ocean, was almost like an ocean as well, indomitable, open and freeing like the sea. She welcomed Lance to get lost within her, in their bond, as both of them enjoyed the feeling of _almost_ crisp sea salt air, the _almost_ feeling of waves lapping at sand-crusted feet, _almost_ but never quite there.

It was quite maddening, Lance had to give her that.

“Ask the Black Lion?” Lance repeated back, dubiously. The thought never crossed his mind, the idea that he could just so much as casually _talk_ to another Lion, other than Blue. Blue gave a pleased, smug, rumble, and Lance smirked, slightly. “I dunno. Will she, er, respond to me?”

 _She’d be a fool not to_ , Blue huffed, and Lance had to laugh, slightly. Okay, that was just laying it on a bit thick there, the flattery. Blue sounded a bit more serious, still amused, but serious, as she continued, _there is only one way to find out, my paladin_.

Lance mulled over it, before shrugging and uncurling himself. He stood up, stretching as he did so, and heard a few _pops_ and _creaks_ his spine. He wanted to think that surely someone else had thought to ask the Black Lion like he was going to, that _he_ couldn’t be the only one with the idea to ask. Keith, Allura, surely _either_ of them could have asked the Black Lion, and Lance was probably just going to annoy the leader Lion with his hopeless question.

Blue pushed some comforting thoughts, encouraging thoughts, towards Lance, and quietly ushered him out of her and back into the hangar. Lance swallowed, straightening himself up, lifting his chin up and rolling his shoulders to get the kinks out of it. To shake off the jitters and nervousness and awkwardness that was bound to come as he approached the Black Lion.

The Black Lion was _huge_.

Which was, well, a given, considering that she was _the_ leader. She was the torso, _and_ the head. She stood solemnly, straight and proud, unmoving as Lance gazed at her. This-- this was the first time, Lance thought, that he was actually _looking_ at another Lion up close.

“Er, hi,” Lance stumbled to say, suddenly very nervous. He swallowed and puffed himself up, trying not to cower in front of another Lion. Blue was right, there was no harm in trying, and if the Black Lion didn’t respond-- well, he can just go back to Blue and lick his wounds in there. “My name is Lance,” _idiot_ , Lance berated himself. Black probably _already_ knew of him. “I’m the paladin of Blue,” _idiot, idiot, idiot_ , Lance complained. “And, er, I was wondering if-- if you had any leads to Shiro. He’s, um, missing, and we’re all looking for him. I am trying, despite not really knowing-- I can’t do much, in my position. I, I just want to know where he is, because everything is broken and and so confusing, and I just want to to find Shiro, because he can make things feel okay again.” Lance rambled, gesturing wildly and feeling more confident in stating his case. “So... do you have _anything_ , anything at all, Black Lion? I’m getting, we’re all getting, desperate.”

Silence.

Lance felt a bit disheartened, and made a face, and made to scuttle backwards and head back to Blue. That was, however, before the Black Lion made a sort of rumbling sort of noise, too deep to be a purr, and bent down, so she-- Lance felt his jaw drop when she opened her mouth, apparently expecting him, _him_ , to go in.

It took him a few moments to remember how to breathe correctly, shooting one last glance towards Blue. _Go on_ , she gave her permission, and Lance nodded, unsure but willing. With a grounding breath, he walked, reluctant and jittery, into the cockpit of the Black Lion, feeling way over his head.

It was so weird, so surreal, to be in another Lion. Lance felt like he was cheating with Blue, but dismissed the thought. Blue should know that Lance loved her, and he was only inside of Black to get answers, to get _something_. As he stood awkwardly in the cockpit, eyes raving over the different interior and wondering if Shiro ever felt intimidated like he felt, standing in literally the biggest, and most powerful, of the Lions of Voltron.

At last, a sudden _blast_ of force overcame him, and he staggered. It felt forceful, not in a bad or good way-- just forceful, responsible, and completely unlike Blue in the regard. Lance tried not to freak out, taking calm even breaths and closing his eyes, even as he had to grip onto the sleek walls for support. Soon, the forceful connection evened out, not lessening in the least, but at least-- it was like falling through air, in a dream, giving Lance little shocks in his heart. He tried to remember the ocean, the stars reflected in a inky surface of the ocean, and calmed himself, and just tried to _relax_. It was obvious the Black Lion was trying to open a connection between her and Lance, and Lance was too prideful to admit, even to himself, that he might not have been ready for it, but if-- if it was to find Shiro, to get answers in anyway, he’d do it.

 _Paladin of Blue,_ Black had a different way of communicating her meaning, more composed, more refined. It was intimidating and made Lance nervous like hell, but he nodded along, furiously, unsure of what to say to that. Hi, again? Nah, that’d be lame, so lame, and Lance didn’t want to make a bad impression-- _I already know of you, paladin of Blue_ , Black sounded a bit bemused. And great, there goes any prospects of impressing the Black Lion with how utterly desperate Lance was acting. _Do not put yourself down, you are a paladin of Voltron, you have a lot to be proud of. Blue certainly thinks so_.

Lance warmed up a bit, and in the back of his mind, he felt Blue purr reassuringly.

“Ah, thanks?” Lance blew out a breath. “Er, I didn’t expect you to do this, especially for me. But-- you do know why I’m here, right?” Black made some noncommittal noise, the connection between her and him shaky at best, suffocating at worse, and all around hard to keep open. Lance was trying, though, and he was about sweating in concentration just to keep it going. “Then do you have any answers for me? Please?”

The Black Lion was silent, and Lance had almost lost his slip on the connection before she spoke again.

 _The Astral Plane can be consuming if you let it_ , the Black Lion mused. _It bends the law of reality itself, and even I had lost connection with my paladin after some time._ Lance mulled over her words, trying not to lose himself in his confusion. Astral Plane? That was a _thing_ that could actually suck you up at whim? What the hell?

“Does that mean he’s still there?” Lance asked, wondering how the hell they were going to _save_ him if he was in someplace where it literally bends reality itself. And Lance’s sense of reality was a bit skewed now that aliens existed and alien technology that went _far_ beyond humans, and seemed to work on an almost _magical_ scale. While it wasn’t the most far fetched thing, Lance still had trouble grasping the idea of it.

 _While I have no conclusive leads on his physical form, as that could have been completely disintegrated due to being lost in the Astral Plane, or had ended up in some unknown galaxy-- his consciousness is still there, somewhere. I just have trouble connecting myself to him_ , the Black Lion informed Lance, dark and brooding, clearly unhappy and depressed. Still, she remained and regal and composed, calm even when she had every reason to be internally screaming her head off in worry and frustration.

Or maybe that was just Lance

“Oh,” Lance said, weakly. “Let’s just hope for the latter one, okay? Is there any way to, I don’t know, _reach_ him on the Astral Plane? Or go there so we can find him?” Lance was mulling the information in his head, rolling it over and trying not to let his thoughts and emotions scramble any sign of intelligent thought he had. He had to be _calm_ like this, be the eye of the hurricane, as still as the ocean before the storm, and had to tie his thoughts conclusively together so he could relay what he found out to the team. “Wait, am I the only one who knows about this, who asked you?”

 _You can reach the Astral Plane through me_ , the Black Lion confided, factual and coolly, in control of the situation and herself. Lance was a bit intimidated and awed, feeling his own mind start to slow down as well. The connection between them flared a bit, before evening out into a more stable bond. _As for your question, no, no one has thought to ask me. Between the two of us, there can be many possibilities of who will be strong enough to be able to reach the Astral Plane using me as conductor, though the most likes of those would be the paladin of Red, the princess of Altea, or.... Perhaps even you_ , it sounded thoughtful, contemplative.

Lance’s first thought was: _of course_ , Keith would be able to do it. There wasn’t _anything_ Keith wasn’t able to do, apparently.

Then Allura came to mind, and Lance felt a bit more-- something, because _of_ course the Princess was able to do it. Was probably the most likely one to do it.

And then... Lance’s thoughts stuttered to a stop, and he had to wait for his brain to restart before he could think something remotely comprehensible. Him? Lance swallowed, licking chapped lips and trying to wrap his mind around it. He? Lance, himself, could save Shiro? He actually had a _chance_? Lance felt something twist in his chest, and he realized it was the ocean inside him, suddenly rising up with the tides of possibilities and wonder, determination and adrenaline.

“I could save Shiro?” Lance asked, voice oddly high-pitched and loud. He cleared his throat, trying to calm himself. “How?”

The Black Lion mused, _with hard work, which is something I feel like you can do very well._ Lance tried not to preen at that, the same feeling that Shiro had given him rising to the surface, making Lance suddenly feel _very_ hopeful and _very_ determined. He could do this for the team, for Shiro, Lance thought wildly. There was some reluctance from Black, now, as she continued, _but please keep in mind: the paladin of Red and the princess herself are also prime candidates. You should all work together for a common cause, for alone you may be weak, but together you shall thrive_ , a sense of chiding and faint reminiscence of Shiro came with the last part, which made Lance wince slightly.

Right. He can’t-- he shouldn’t keep this to himself. The others had the right to know what Lance had found out, especially Keith. Keith, who looked half-dead most of the time, with bruised and broken bones and cut skin that he had to spend nights in the healing pod for hours at a time just to keep himself on his feet. The one who refused to speak until he absolutely needed to, his rival, and damn, Lance really needs to stop thinking about Keith, because _everyone_ missed Shiro, not just Keith.

As Lance picked himself up, having slid to the floor from the effort of trying to keep a connection open between himself and the Black Lion, he said, “Thank you, I _mean_ it,” he said, sincere and resolved. It was stupid to think that he could do anything on his own, despite the bitterness that made a bile rise in his throat at the thought.

The connection dissipated, and Lance swore he heard a faint purr fade in the back of his mind, _I should be the one thanking you, paladin of Blue_.

-0-0-0-

“So, uh, I talked with the Black Lion,” Lance said, not really sure of what to say when it’s been awhile since he had everyone’s attention on him. But hey, he liked attention and he could roll with the best of them, even in the most awkward of situation. In this case, however, it was... well, Lance was eager to share his knowledge, while at the same time worried that whatever he managed to gather would be somehow inadequate compared to the others. _I got this, the Black Lion has my back_ , _Blue has my back,_ **_I_ ** _have my own back_ , Lance thought.

The reactions from the others were varied, so to speak.

Hunk said, confused, “Wait, we can talk to other Lions other than our own?”

“Are you kidding?” Pidge sounded vaguely interested, and slightly hopeful. “How? What happened?”

Allura and Coran shared looks.

Keith, however, had stood abruptly from his seat. Rather rudely, in Lance’s opinion, said, “Wait, _you_ ? The Black Lion talked to _you_?” Disbelief was clear on his face, in his words, and Lance felt slightly affronted.

“What’s that supposed to mean, mullet-man?” Lance snapped back. Okay, a lot affronted, to be honest. “Are you trying to say something here, bud?” Lance narrowed his eyes at the Red paladin, ready to defend himself if necessary.

“I’m just a bit surprised that the Black Lion talked to you, that’s all,” Keith muttered, still sounding slightly disbelieving. O-kay, how irritating, but whatever, Lance can take it in moderation, and yeah, Lance didn’t believe it himself that the Black Lion chose to talk to him in the first place.

“I have to agree with Keith on this one, Lance,” Allura said, mildly. Lance sputtered in indignation, Blue and his bond flaring up and Blue’s comforting purr deepened into slightly offended growls. _Yeah, you and me both_ , Lance thought, darkly. “You’re, er, not really the type of person the Black Lion would have chosen to talk to.” _You’re you_ , was basically what was Lance was getting from that.

“And what is _that_ supposed to mean, princess?” Lance said, defensively. Cute or not, super sad backstory and awesome muscles that could crush him but that was also secretly and somewhat scarily hot-- wait, mind scramble. Okay, back on track, they were insinuating something and that something was that Lance was somehow not good enough to talk to the Black Lion. “Do you not believe me?” Lance asked, bewildered and so very, very affronted that it was basically transcending irritation and right onto offended _nuh-uh_ territory.

“Please forgive our suspension of belief, Lance,” Allura tried to backtrack, carefully.

“But you’re not exactly what we would call a good leader,” Keith interrupted, impatient and scrutinizing. He seemed to grimace at his words, and tried to find the correct one, even as Lance’s emotions took a wild swing and he had to refrain from jumping over the table to throttle Keith himself. “I mean, I--” Keith sighs, rubbing a hand through his mullet-styled and stupid hair. “The Black Lion is hard to connect to,” he finally said.

Lance’s eyes narrowed. “And you should know why?”

The moment he said the words, he had a sinking feeling. _How_ did he know, was what he should have asked. It can’t be. Can it--? No, it _can’t_ \--

Keith looked like he was experiencing an ulcer. A very _painful_ ulcer, and as if the words pained him just to say. “Because _I_ piloted the Black Lion, at least, for a little bit,” Keith admitted, and Lance wanted to throw up his hands.

 _Of course you fucking did_ , Lance thought, violently. _Because there is nothing_ **_you_ ** _can’t do now, can’t you?_

“Woah, dude, really?” Hunk asked, adding his bit to the conversation. Pidge just chewed the inside of her lip, eyes assessing and calculating as she observed the conversation and revelations around her. Lance wanted them to defend him, but knew that was silly and petty to think like that. “When?”

Keith averted his eyes from everyone, “When we got separated after the wormhole incident,” he said, curt and awkward. “Shiro was in trouble, and Red was out of commision. I had no choice if I wanted to save Shiro.”

Lance tried not to link that feeling to his own, the need, the want, to save Shiro. Anything in common with Keith was pushed to the back of his mind, or denied-- the thought of Keith and Lance having anything in common was ridiculous, and damn it, Lance just wanted to stay angry and vindictive towards his rival because he didn’t know how else to confront the stupid mullet-man.

Blue’s affronted presence in his mind soothed out into a more calm lull of the waves, lapping at his ankles, at his thoughts. He was grateful as he tried to prevent himself from scrambling his thoughts even further and _breathe_ , as he surveyed the room with a scrunched up expression. Before he could recover fully, though, Allura spoke, mildly impressed and slightly grudging that she obviously didn’t know beforehand.

“That is impressive, Keith,” she spoke, giving him a measuring look. Keith glowered back, not really because he was angry with her or anything, Lance was sure, but that was Keith’s thing nowadays. Glowering, dark and brooding silence, and lots, _lots_ , of training.

Lance tried to ignore the flare of irritation, the hot stab of it rising in his gut, as he waved his arms frantically to get everyone’s attention. His voice was loud, a bit brash, and got everyone’s attention like he wanted to. “Um, excuse me? I still have things to say,” he shot a warning look at Keith, who rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. _Rude, rude, rude_ , Lance thought hotly. “My point is that I managed to talk to the Black Lion, and she gave me some answers on Shiro’s whereabouts.”

“And where would he be?” Pidge sounded somewhat dubious, and Lance blew out a sigh, all energy leaving him suddenly, receding like the low tide. This, this was the hard part.

It took a few moments for Lance to work out the letters in his mouth, and he said, “The Astral Plane. Apparently you can only get there through the Black Lion.” There was a tense silence, as everyone mulled over this in their heads. Allura suddenly looked very shell-shocked before letting out a groaning noise, rubbing at her temples.

“ _Of course_ ,” Allura muttered, closing her eyes tight. She must not have thought of that, Lance perked up. Suddenly feeling very much like he was apart of the team, with a lead on Shiro, Lance felt much better.

“What? The Astral Plane?” Hunk asked, looking thoughtful. “That’s actually a thing? If so, then can we somehow reach it through our own Lions? Or is it just a Black Lion privilege?”

“It only accessible to those who are deeply connected with the Black Lion,” Allura gave an explanation. “The leader of Voltron can access the Astral Plane, which is better described as another plane of existence. You have to be calm, collected, and in control of every emotion to be able to transcend to it safely. If I remember correctly, Shiro had bonded better with his Lion this way.”

 _Calm, collected, and in control of every emotion,_ Lance thought. If that didn't describe Shiro to the _i_ , then Lance didn’t know what did.

“Astral Plane,” Keith muttered, suddenly looking very much alive. Lance had almost jumped out of his skin when he Keith focused those burning eyes on him, and for a brief moment, he felt a pang of... relief? Sadness? Lance shook the thought of his head as Keith spoke, voice tight. “Lance, what else did the Black Lion say? Did she say anything on getting him through there? Is he _there_?”

Lance tried not to flinch at the intensity of Keith’s tone. Intense. Words. He was good with it, his whole family fought to just be heard over the dinner table, fought to be understood by their family, words and sounds filled with meaning and emotion. It was just that Keith was almost like Lance in that regard, _too_ intense, _too_ emotional, _too_ passionate, it felt like he could burn holes into Lance’s head and ears.

“The Black Lion said that while she might not know where Shiro’s physical body is,” Lance decidedly kept out the fact that the Black Lion said that it could possibly be _disintegrated_ due to physically transcending to the Astral Plane. It was too glum to think about it, and no doubt it would weaken the hope that the Black Lion’s message would bring. “But she is sure his consciousness it there, somewhere. She has lost connection to him after some time,” Lance finished, unsure now. “Still, there’s a chance, a possibility, that Shiro is there.”

Allura looked grim. “Well, it’s the only lead we have right now,” she concluded. After a pause, she gave an appraising look towards Lance, something undecipherable flickering through her eyes. “Thank you, Lance, for contributing this vital piece of information.”

Lance preened, as Blue purred in content in his mind.

“Yeah, way to go, Lance,” Hunk offered, grinning at his best friend. Lance grinned back, satisfied and happy.

“Talking to another Lion, other than your own,” PIdge mused. “It’s quite ingenious of you, I guess.” It wasn’t quite the open gratitude Hunk expressed, or cut and clear thanks Allura exhibited-- but it was something entirely Pidge, and Lance couldn’t help but preen just a _tiny_ bit more.

Validation was always nice, after all.

Keith conveyed something in his expression towards Lance, and Lance could only blink back. Keith glanced away, and blew out a stormy sigh, glancing at Allura. “So, what do we do about it? We have to get him back, now that we know where to start,” he hedged, carefully, tightly.

Allura pursed her lips, sharing yet another glance with Coran. Coran tugged at his mustache rather nervously, offering a strained chuckle. “Well, before Lance, my boy, called this meeting to order, Allura and I were planning on gathering you guys all of eventually because, well,” Coran said, thoughtfully. “There had been some movement on the Galra side of things, and the Blade of Marmora has hinted at there being a rightful heir to the Galra Empire.”

The words sunk in, and Lance wanted to groan.

Of _course_ there’d be an heir to Zarkon. It was a ten thousand year old empire, after all. Lance felt stupid for not thinking of the possibility in the first place, too caught up in between being homesick and trying to find Shiro, and trying to make sure his whole team didn’t die of exposure because they forgot to eat or take a shower. Surely, though, he could be forgiven in this instance when the rest of the team looked as put off as he felt.

“What?” Keith snapped, suddenly very irritated and impatient. “Who is it?”

Allura offered a disgusted look back, as she said, “Zarkon apparently had a heir.” Meaning, he did the _do_ , and wow, ew, that was gross to think about. Lance’s expression scrunched up, and he tried not to think of inappropriate thoughts including the deceased Galra Emperor.

“But he was so _old_ ,” Hunk blurted out, and Lance nodded along, turning a bit green at the thought.

Allura and Coran both looked vaguely uncomfortable as everyone felt. So thankfully, Keith spoke, “That doesn’t matter. What matters is what the new Galra Emperor wants, and Shiro.” Keith seemed to be trying to calm himself down, expression tense. “You said the Blade of Marmora hinted at it? They don’t share information so easily if they didn’t want us to do something about it.” Impatience was heard, hot, in his tone of voice. The silent ‘ _what do they want us to do about it?’_ was clear.

“Apparently, the new heir’s name is Lotor, and he had contacted the Blade of Marmora himself,” Allura looked displeased and wary as she sounded. “He wishes to meet us for a diplomatic meeting,” her voice turned dubious.

“No,” Keith denied, easily. “We have better things to worry about than some type of prince’s idea of a get-together.”

Lance felt the need to insert himself into the conversation here. “But what if he wants our help and opinion on turning over a new leaf for the Galra Empire?” Lotor wasn’t his father, after all, even if his heritage and father spoke bad volumes about him already. Lance was an open guy, willing to give someone a chance even if he never met them before-- until they did something horrible, then it was a no-go, and Lance wasn’t suddenly so agreeable anymore.

“Don’t be stupid,” Keith shot him down. “It’s obvious some type of trap of some sort. It’s too obvious, and we’d be fools to fall for it like that.” Lance’s expression spasmed slightly, even as he thought, _fools? Who the hell even uses that word anymore?_

Allura interrupted, sharply, before Keith and Lance could dissolve into mere squabbling. Lance felt slightly disappointed that she did, but whatever, he understood. It’s just been awhile since Keith and Lance properly _spoke_ to each other. “Keith,  I understand your concerns, and Lance, stop riling Keith up so much,” Lance wanted to gesture wildly at Keith, becuase it should be _him_ not riling Lance up too much! “We’ll figure out _both_ situations as calmly, and efficiently, as we can. Meanwhile, Keith,” she shot a meaningful look at Keith, who flinched. “While we’re getting everything out into the open, do you have anything you’d like to share with us?”

Her tone decidedly said that Keith had no choice in this matter and would share if he knew what was good for him. Lance tried not to snicker, a grin threatening to overtake his face.

Keith apparently thought so too, as his expression was dark and rather constipated. He let his eyes go around to everyone in the room, hovering on Lance a brief second longer than the rest. Lance swallowed, mouth dry. At last, Keith spoke, quietly and forceful, “Shiro had told me that if anything ever happened to him, that he wanted _me_ to pilot the Black LIon, and lead Voltron.”

The revelation had a bit more of an impact on Lance than he would have liked to admit.

Shock, anger, and disbelief were one of the main emotions that made his thought process scramble, everything shutting down before starting back up with an almost inaudible _whir_ of information processes inside Lance’s head. Lance gritted his teeth, even as Hunk made a humming noise and Pidge was struggling to speak something.

“Well,” Pidge said, at length. Her voice was undoubtedly small.“If Shiro said so, then I’ll accept it.”

Hunk sounded unsure, “But Shiro’s coming back, right? This isn’t, like, telling us to stop looking for Shiro, is it?” His voice hardened, as his expression turned almost stony, which was surprising for Hunk’s gentle and compassionate features. But at the same time, was it really so surprising? Hunk was a gentle and huggable bear who loved his friends dearly, and the thought of abandoning any of them would torment him too much to bare.

Keith looked affronted, “Of course not!”

“But why _you?_ ” Lance snapped, and Keith’s eyes jumped back onto him. Lance had been standing this whole time, but now he had slammed his hands onto the table in between Keith and him. “You’re not-- I don’t accept,” Lance struggled to get the words out of his mouth, mind scrambling just to form a proper sentence. “You’re _Keith_ , the most hot-headed person I know, how can _you_ be the leader? How could Shiro choose you?”

If anything, _Allura_ would have made a better choice. An expected choice. A choice that didn’t involve _Keith_ \--

Lance just felt like the waves of emotion would pull him under again, so close to drowning in it. It was always like Keith had something up his sleeve, waiting for Lance to reveal his hand before revealing his, and it would _always_ be better than anything Lance could have managed. Lance had thought that merely _talking_ to the Lion was a godsend, but apparently Keith piloted it, no problem. Lance had struggled to accept that, yeah, the Black Lion would let anyone pilot her to save Shiro, because _duh_ , that’s her paladin. But then to find out that Shiro apparently had chosen _Keith_ as the one to replace him if anything happened? That was like having your cake, and eating it, too! It felt so unfair that it was Keith, because it was _always_ Keith, seemingly the bane of Lance’s entire existence.

Ever since they met in Garrison, Keith was _always_ the one person that made Lance feel completely inadequate. It didn’t help that, even when Keith was expelled, he was _still_ being compared to him!

“Sounds like the pot calling the kettle black,” Keith ground out, nostrils flaring a bit in agitation. “Look at yourself, and then you call _me_ hot-headed?” Keith snapped, and Lance had to try and keep up with the scrambled mess inside his head, inside the scribbled knot of emotion in his chest that swelled with each agitated second.

“At least _I_ can handle a decent conversation without exploding at every little thing,” Lance insisted, hotly.

“Can you?” Keith sounded surprised, which, honestly, pissed Lance off a bit more. “Because by the looks of it, _you_ can’t keep your mouth shut at _every. Little. Thing_.” Keith’s words resonated inside of Lance’s head. “And it’s not like I asked to be the Black Paladin! I don’t know what Shiro was thinking when he told me this,” Keith admitted, a bit more quietly, receding in on himself.

Didn’t _ask_ to be Black paladin, huh?

Wasn’t _that_ icing on the cake? Keith _never_ asked to be anything, he just _was_ , and that was, apparently, better than anything Lance could hope to achieve.

There was the roaring of waves inside Lance’s ears, even as his heart thudded so fast the he feared it might fail him. Lance could only glare at Keith, trying to calm his wild emotions and erratic heartbeat, wanting to yell at Keith for being so much better than himself, to get him to understand that he _was_ better than Lance in almost everything, and the fact that he didn’t even _know_ it was painful as fuck.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, Allura interrupted, voice hard and crisp. “Lance, we’d all appreciate it if you didn’t pick fights now. Especially when we have a lot to worry about already, we don’t need to worry about disruption in our team,” Allura stated, and Lance felt any reply collapse in his throat, lumping together there. “Now everyone, you are dismissed. Keith and I need to talk to the leaders of Blade of Marmora, and decide what to do about the information discussed here tonight. If anyone has anything _else_ they want to say, please do so now.”

There was an awful silence, and Lance clenched his fists at his side, everything still shaky and trembling with emotion.

“What about Shiro? What do we do about that?” Lance asked, voice catching in his throat.

Allura pursed her lips, before sighing and giving Lance a measuring look. “It’s nothing you need to worry about now, Lance,” she said, measuredly. “Keith and I will come up with a solution on how to safely get Keith to transcend the Astral Plane in order to retrieve Shiro, either before or after the meeting with Zarkon’s heir.”

“Why _Keith?_ ” Lance bit out. The Black Lion’s words echoed in his head, _alone you may be weak, but together you shall thrive_ . Why was it always about Keith? Why Keith? Why not-- why not _Lance_ , for once? “If you’re forgetting, _I_ managed to connect with the Black Lion as well,” he reminded, crossing his arms petulantly and glaring at the princess. At Keith.

“With your state of mind as it is, and how little control you exhibit over your emotions,” Allura stated, firmly. “I find little reason into having you transcend to the Astral Plane as of that it could seriously damage your psyche if you’re not careful and in check of yourself.” Her voice was factual, and resolved.

“And Keith is?” Lance raised both of his eyebrows.

Keith made a disgruntled noise, eyes hot and narrowed at Lance. “What is _wrong_ with you today?” Keith grit out, fists clenching and unclenching. “It’s like you’re trying to pick a fight.”

“Maybe I am--”

“Lance. Keith,” Allura said, loudly, reprimanding. “Lance, I don’t understand why you are so upset at the fact that Keith himself was chosen to pilot the Black Lion in Shiro’s stead, or why you are so upset at the fact that he is the only one capable of transcending to the Astral Plane, but you need to keep it together. I will not have you cause disruptions in this team any more than you already have, do I make myself _clear_?”

Lance swallowed, suddenly unable to handle all the attention aimed at him. The scrutiny, the disapproval, the worried looks-- Lance felt like he could drown in front of them all, and not one of them would care.  Blue’s comforting purr could only do so much to keep him afloat, and Lance suddenly found it very hard to breathe properly.

“Whatever,” he snapped back, before turning on heel and storming from the room, ignoring Hunk’s worried voice behind him, and Allura’s sigh of disapproval and telling Hunk to just _let him cool down_.

Lance has never felt so frustrated and out of his depth in his life until that very moment.


End file.
